


Peace! My Nightclub for Some Peace!

by angelsandbrowncoats



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Crack, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Marriage Proposal, but honestly guys, ive got everything, richard iii spoilers, vague reference to Ed's childhood abuse, vague spoilers for s2 and s3 but like not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 08:36:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10738050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsandbrowncoats/pseuds/angelsandbrowncoats
Summary: When Oswald betrays Ed in a way so reminiscent of their past, they fight. Oswald wishes Ed would understand his motives and Ed wants to show Oswald what happens when you treat your friend (or lover) like dirt. Of course, things never go quite right when it comes to these two.I wanted an excuse to make Oswald watch Richard III and it got a bit out of hand.





	Peace! My Nightclub for Some Peace!

**Author's Note:**

> This is un-beta'd and I am a very new member of the DC fandom, so please excuse any mistakes of both the grammar and content variety (although if you point out the former, I may edit them out. I probably won't change the content). Basically, I went to Richard III recently and I was struck by how similar the title character is to Oswald. I kind of fell into this ship and I've only watched through 2x09 (although I have not avoided spoilers at. all.) so I apologize if I've missed a bit on the characterization. This work also fell into being, with no plan whatsoever, so I hope you guys like it.  
> Enjoy.

It had been many long years since Ed had felt this betrayed by one Oswald Cobblepot. Back then, he had been young. He had been hotheaded and energetic - more so, anyway. His vengeance had been extensive, so much so that it took a toll on him as well as Oswald. This time, though, his revenge would bring only joy to himself. While he would never lose his flair, age had brought with it a certain subtlety that he appreciated.

Smirking to himself in the mirror, he located his phone and began to text that irritatingly foolish little bird.

[I'm sorry, Ozzie, you were right.]

[I overreacted. I miss you.]

[Let me make it up to you tomorrow night.]

[I can get us tickets to a play, I know how you love theatre]

[And I'll make whatever you like for dinner]

He only had to wait about a minute (47 seconds, but who was counting? Definitely not Ed. Okay, maybe Ed) for the reply.

{Dinner and a play sounds lovely.}

{I'm so glad you've come to your senses about this whole affair.}

Oh that was rich, coming from him.

{You must understand how imperative it is that I wed this woman, in order that her father may bequeath me with his company. It was his sole condition.}

Ed ground his teeth at the mention of _that woman_. How dare she come between Oswald and him? How dare Oswald _let her_?

He was not unaware of the similarities between this and their last falling out. The irony was far from lost on him, but... But the situations were _different_. Last time the woman had meant more than a means to an end. Last time an outside party had been deceiving and manipulating them. _Last time they hadn't been together yet._

Another ding on his phone made him look down.

{There was no condition requiring her - or him, for that matter - to remain alive.}

{;)}

Ed wanted to grin. He also wanted to scream into a pillow. Instead, he settled for rolling his eyes. As much as his blood boiled at the thought of someone else marrying his Oswald, his penguin, he had to admit that his youthful rage would have been pretty unjustifiable (by his standards, not the police's) if he let this slide. The whole idea was that it was wrong to purposefully murder innocent women, wasn't it?

_Well, you were acting more out of selfish motivation, but yes that is the excuse that makes you - us - sleep better at night._

Shut up.

_You know what I mean. Of course you do. I'm you. Sort of._

That didn't change the fact that Edward's hands were stained with the blood of select few innocents. He had killed more goons for unnecessary bloodshed than he had been the cause of any. Of course, innocent was a more narrow category than the police (or perhaps just Gordon) would like to believe, so he really wasn't that restricted or restrained.

_But if he doesn't kill her, and divorcing her won't get him the company, that means they'd have to stay together. Surely that outweighs any guilt your sad little self might be feeling?_

Well if his plan succeeded then Oswald might rethink things and end the engagement before the dreadful ceremony ever took place.

_If it doesn't, you could always object. He probably wouldn't forgive you, but it would serve him right._

No, that's a stupid idea.

_Well say your great plan does work. Is all the work Oswald's put into this acquisition to go to waste? You know how much it means to him._

Now that was a thought. Ed snapped his fingers and began flipping through his mental file cabinet. The man wanted his daughter to be happy. His daughter wanted a wealthy husband who would let herself sit around and pamper herself. All Ed had to do was convince her that she didn't want to marry Oswald. Oswald was probably not game to play along as the horrible and fearful man that might scare her off, so instead he needed her to want someone else. Get her to fall in love with someone under their employ.

_So you actually are capable of having productive thoughts. Good job. Now I'll just sit back and see where you end up going with this. I'm prepared to bet good money that this will be a colossal failure. A hilarious one._

He spat a mental "thanks" at his other voice, reminding him that betting against himself was pointless since they shared the same money. He felt laughter bubbling up from his other side for that.

He sorted through all of his and Oswald's underlings before he settled on a young man, moderately charming, and someone who enjoyed living a comfortable life. Perfect. Now he just needed to throw him in the path of that girl.

~ ~ ~

Oswald Cobblepot was pleased as punch. Life was good when one was seated on top. Even his prior successes had involved excessive legwork, which can be exceedingly annoying when one has an injured leg. Now his days were spent in his office above the Iceberg, albeit dealing mostly with the filling out of paperwork and the yelling at of his imbecile underlings. His evenings tended to include either personally overseeing the club or occasionally hosting illicit meetings. Most of his business was legal these days, but money is money is power. His nights? Those were the most enjoyable of all - well, until recently.

For the owner of a nightclub, Oswald tended to retire early. While he allowed many to assume it was his way of transitioning into an older age, the true purpose was much preferable. Never having needed more than about six hours a night, sleeping at nine permitted him to wake up just as Ed would sneak in from whatever evil escapade he'd pulled off each night. Oswald thought that Ed was never more beautiful than upon his returns from successfully bamboozling Gotham and its assorted protectors. As cheesy as he knew it sounded, during those times, Ed practically _glowed_.

Unfortunately, Ed was being a stubborn bastard. He hadn't been home in a fortnight and _goddammit_ Oswald was worried. The last time they had seen each other they had been arguing in a way they hadn't for years. But Oswald hadn't thought it was as bad as it clearly had been, since they were both people prone to arguing, often for argument's sake. Ed had shouted that he hoped Oswald would have a happy future before storming out (with a door slam and everything). To Oswald, that had sounded like an almost-apology and he (quite understandingly) assumed Ed wanted some time to cool down.

He was not prepared for the dead silence that followed. Ed had only left him in the dark for three hours this time, sending him a severely clipped text that he was fine and staying 'elsewhere' early the next morning. Oswald, who tended to assume the worst (usually involving both Batman and Arkham) could hardly claim to be relieved by this information. He had responded with approximately thirty texts, each more hectic than the last. Eventually he tried calling Ed's cell, only to be informed that he had disabled his voicemail (and GPS. Yes, Oswald checked).

The following two weeks had seen Oswald swamped in business, and he found himself almost too busy to worry. Almost. After the first night, Ed had ceased to even text whether or not he had made it home - no, made it wherever he was staying. Home is where one belongs and Ed belonged in Oswald's manor. This left Oswald frantically scanning the news each morning, a spike of fear shooting through his heart every time he so much as glimpsed the color green. His underworld contacts had been instructed to inform him of any new inmates in Arkham each night, as an additional precaution in case a story was being kept from the media.

In any case, the last few nights had been absolute hell for the Penguin, added on to the fact that he had to spend his days dealing with the reason his beloved was refusing to so much as speak with him. One of the most successful businesses in Gotham, a company that specialized in emergency equipment, mostly of the disaster relief variety, although a few that were specifically commissioned by the GCPD, was almost within his grasp. Acquiring the company would essentially double his gains, considering he would be profiting both from Gotham's prolific "disasters" directly, as well as from the cleanup and recovery process. Not to mention, controlling even a sliver of police gear could mean the difference between a win and a loss. And the _price_ \- the price was the best part of all. He'd laughed when he'd heard.

The owner of a company that easily made millions was willing to sell it all for a measly $400,000, the cost of a good house, and a wealthy if indifferent husband for his daughter. Specifically, him. He was even offering to pay for the reception and honeymoon, and the day they returned, he'd sign over everything. It was highway robbery (actually it was significantly easier than highway robbery - he would know).

The Penguin had no intention of leaving either the former owner or his bride alive much longer than a day or two after that, especially after the unforeseen trouble they had caused. Originally, he'd thought to bury the murders among red tape, missing information, and low-level thugs, but now he wondered if he should offer Ed the honors. It was ridiculous, how he could miss something as small as holding Ed's hand across the table _this much_. He'd limp all the way to the fucking _police station_ on his goddamned _busted leg_ if he thought it would make Ed let him hold him again.

It still nagged at him that Ed hadn't understood. Oswald was doing this for money, for power - not for _love_. Why did that not seem to register with him? Surely he knew by now that he was the only one Oswald was capable of loving? At least on that level. He loved the memory of his mother and father, sure, and he felt a sort of affection for Gabe and Victor, both of whom had served him so well, but Ed? Ed was different. Ed had _always_ been different. Considering just how much Oswald had forgiven him for, Ed ought to know this, so why - _why in god's name_ couldn't he deal with Oswald's _business deal_ like a mature adult?

His phone buzzed at that moment, alerting him to a text, and as he had been doing for the past two weeks he practically leapt to check it.

**5 New Messages from: Enigma**

Oswald dropped his phone in his scramble to unlock it, but he managed on the second try. His eyes scanned the texts and he felt his heart soar, bringing him to the aforementioned peachy feeling. He quickly sent out a reply, personally preferring a block of text method of messaging but knowing it drove Ed crazy, watching those three little dots. A part of him almost wanted to do it to make him suffer, but he refused to jeopardize the prospect of fixing their relationship. As much as he loved petty revenge, he couldn't bring himself to prolong his and Ed's current situation.

He was quick to accept Ed's olive branch and after a moment, he decided to extend his own in the form of offering the murders to him.

It was a long time before Ed replied, and Oswald began to regret mentioning the woman at all. Sure, Ed admitted he'd overreacted, but he'd been _furious_. Perhaps his method of accepting that business was business had been to not think about it all. Perhaps-

His phone buzzed again and he immediately checked.

[You never know. The ceremony isn't til the Wednesday after next and I need not remind you that it takes less than a week to convince yourself you're in love with someone]

Oswald blinked. Was this supposed to be humor as some form of apology? Or was Ed really mad enough to use what should have been a low blow against _himself_ to hurt Oswald?

[In all seriousness, I hope it doesn't come to murder. Enough innocent blood has been shed for our mistakes]

Well _that_ sure cleared things up. He sighed, wishing Ed could speak plainly. Even when he wasn't using riddles to communicate Oswald struggled to decipher his intentions. Hopefully he'd be able to get a better read on him tomorrow, when he would be able to see his face at last.

{I'll consider it. As for food, perhaps some nice fish with lemons. I'm afraid I must be getting to sleep, so I shall bid you goodnight.}

Ed took his sweet time typing out a reply which turned out to only say "goodnight" back. Oswald wondered what it was that Ed had decided not to say, but he had been serious about needing his sleep. He wasn't about to mess up tomorrow. True, their conflicting work schedules meant that Oswald so rarely knew the pleasure of falling asleep beside his dearest, but his heart ached at the thought of waking up (again) at three to an empty house.

~ ~ ~

Ed stared at Oswald's last text, trying to think of something to say. Was Oswald seriously keeping up his schedule, even now that he didn't have any reason to get up so early? Was it by choice or by habit? Or was Oswald lying to end the conversation?

Either way, he had some people to threaten before tomorrow night.

~ ~ ~

The devil himself had decided it had been too long since Oswald had been truly tortured. When he retired from his office at the Iceberg at a shocking five o'clock, he had returned home with an anticipatory energy thrumming through his veins. The second he opened the door he noticed the difference. The house was warm, despite it being early March and Oswald's habit of turning the heating off while he was away. More importantly, he could hear humming from the direction of the kitchen.

Ed was _home_.

Oswald dropped everything he was holding, barely managing to drag his cane with him, in his rush to get to the kitchen. He rounded the corner and saw him. Ed was standing by the stove, slightly hunched over, hair floppier than last he had been there, and glasses ever so slightly askew. He looked gorgeous.

" _Ed-"_

The man straightened to his full height (a good amount above Oswald) and turned around.

"Oswald. Hello."

And then he turned back to the stove. Oswald stared at him. Was this some new punishment he had devised? Where was the Ed who loved having someone to talk to? Where was the Ed who never knew when to stop talking? Even when Ed was focused he chatted.

"What, no riddle? Surely you've had time to think of some new one," Oswald prodded, chuckling nervously in case Ed had intended to ignore his 'vacation'.

There was silence in the kitchen for a full three minutes, before Ed finally spoke up. His voice was rather quiet as he asked, "If I am known to all, I do not exist. If I am known to some, I can be either terrible or amazing. If I am known to none, the universe is my mother. What am I?"

Oswald felt twin bursts of relief and annoyance. The man before him was the Ed he knew and loved, but he hated losing and he was awful at riddles (even with the extra practice).

"I don't know, Ed," he smiled softly. Ed turned to him with a small smile of his own, one which Oswald strained to discover whether or not it reached his eyes.

"A surprise. I don't what to accidentally spoil the surprise of what play I'm taking you to."

"Ah," Oswald said. That made sense. Ed had a tendency to blurt things out, so he would have to keep himself pretty checked if he didn't want to give something away.

"Supper will be ready shortly, Os, would you mind grabbing the plates? I have to keep an eye on this right now."

"Of course."

Things were painfully domestic so far. Oswald was screaming on the inside. Ed was acting like nothing had happened and all Oswald wanted was a confirmation that he really did understand and he wasn't about to leave again. He cursed himself for being so needy and insecure, but his mother had been an ever-present (and his only) pillar of support for so much of his life that not having someone that he could trust to be there for him was difficult.

Dinner was served with absolute precision and every bite was a culinary masterpiece (at least to Oswald. Ed thought it needed a little more seasoning). Throughout the course of the meal, they made small talk that sounded awkward to both, but neither knew how to steer the conversation out of that territory. After almost an hour of that sort of verbal dancing, Ed took mercy on him and suggested that they head to the theatre.

"We'll be going in a back way so you can't see what it's called. I meant it about the surprise."

Oswald shrugged. If Ed preferred surprising him, well, Oswald trusted his judgement. Sure, he was more of a connoisseur of theatre than Ed, but the other man knew his fair share on the subject.

Upon arrival, Oswald inspected the stage. The setting implied Greek or Shakespeare, more likely Shakespeare. Well, he wasn't about to complain about the Bard. He rather hoped it would be one of the great comedies, like _Much Ado About Nothing_ , or _Hamlet_.

Obviously Ed had acquired a private box for them, so while Oswald could watch the people filing into their seats, he could neither hear their conversations nor read their programs. Ed himself was silent at his side, although he allowed Oswald to reach over and grab his hand as it rested on the low wall of the balcony. When the lights dimmed at last, Oswald was more than ready to discover what entertainment he had in store.

The opening involved only music, as various actors in medieval dress (ha! Shakespeare!) went about the stage doing different 'every day' sort of activities. A man entered from below their balcony, and when he spoke, Oswald froze.

"Now is the winter of our discontent, made glorious summer by this sun of York; all the clouds that lowered upon our house-"

" _Richard III?_ Really Edward?" Oswald hissed at him. Ed shrugged and made a 'shush' gesture before leaning over and whispering, "It's one of the greatest classics of all time. I thought you'd appreciate it."

There was a reason Oswald avoided this play like the plague, a damn good reason, and Ed knew it. The most famous historical tragedy focused on the rise to power of a fast-talking but generally unlikable man with a limp who will stab anyone in the back and who, eventually, is betrayed to the death by most of his former friends and allies. There were more than a few uncomfortable parallels to Oswald's own life.

Ed's point was driven home during the scene in which it is revealed that Richard murdered one wife in order to marry another for no better reason than to solidify his position as king. Oswald had long since started fidgeting in his seat. When Richard refused Buckingham and Buckingham turned on him, Oswald couldn't help glancing at Ed. The bastard's face remained impassive, focused intently on the stage and ignoring Oswald completely.

When the lights went up at last, Ed (and alright, Oswald too) was up on his feet clapping enthusiastically. Point or no the performance had been well done all around.

"Ed," Oswald began as the cast began to filter off stage, "We need to ta-"

"There's no need to be alarmed - yet," a familiar voice boomed out across the auditorium, "A few of you have begun to notice that the doors are locked. There is, naturally, a reason for this, and I promise you this: many of you may emerge alive."

Ed leapt to his feet and snarled, "What the fuck is he doing _here_?"

Okay, perhaps he was Riddler more than Ed in this moment. Oswald would be having words with Crane later, as the Penguin, so he more than understood.

"And you'll be interested to know, if there are any psychopaths in the audience, they shall remain entirely unaffected. I'm honoring you all by allowing you to be my first mass test of a new form of fear gas - one that targets the emotional part of the brain. Don't hold back on your feelings now, and have fun."

Oswald sighed. Great. Just great. He turned to Ed, "You aren't a psychopath by any chance, are you?"

"Os, you know perfectly well that neither of us are. We need to get out of here. Breathe as little as possible and breathe through your jacket. That should be enough for now," Ed said in a rush. A clearly visible gas was flooding the area below them, but it wouldn't take long to reach their balcony.

"What about you?" Oswald asked as he brought his sleeve up to his face. Ed unwound the scarf from his neck and tied it around his mouth and nose. He knelt in front of the door at the back of the box, which had locked along with the rest of the theatre, and pulled his lock picks from inside his coat. After what felt like hours but was probably only about ten minutes, Ed managed to locate and push the last block up, twisting the handle to find it open. He gestured Oswald through and they made a mad dash for the exit, running through clouds of gas that had leaked into the hall.

When they reached the back door they'd come through, Oswald optimistically tried to shove it open, and when that didn't work, he held out his free hand to keep Ed back before reaching for his gun and blasting the lock open. He stumbled out onto the street, dragging Ed along behind as he gasped for the fresh air outside. He forged on away from the theatre for a ways before he registered that Ed was no longer beside him.

He turned around to find Ed sitting dejectedly on the curb some twenty paces behind. Something else was off about the scene, but Oswald didn't have time to figure out what. He limped back to Ed, leaning heavily on his cane as the unexpected exercise sent flares of pain through his damaged leg.

As he neared, he could see the tears beginning to drip, one by one, down Ed's face. Oh dear. Oswald lowered himself carefully to the curb beside the man, moving to place a hand on Ed's shoulder and stopping only when Ed flinched away. Ouch.

"Ed? Eddie?"

"What?" he practically spat, glaring up at him, which was quite a feat. His bent posture combined with how he leaned as physically far from Oswald as possible allowed the latter to have the height advantage for once.

In that moment, Oswald realized what was wrong with the scene (apart from the obvious, of course).

"Ed, where's your scarf?"

Ed glared at him for a few seconds before he ground out, "It got caught on something in the hallway. I had to get rid of it."

Well at least Oswald knew why Ed was acting like this. If there was any permanent change or damage of any kind, he was going to personally eviscerate Crane.

"You said we needed to talk," Ed interrupted Oswald's revenge plotting, "I suppose you were about to tell me to get over myself."

"Ed, wouldn't you rather do this at home?" Oswald coaxed. Yes, he wanted to talk, but not when Ed was incapable of logical reasoning.

" _Home_?" Ed asked in that same awful voice, "I don't have a home. If you are referring to that glorified brothel you call a house, then no I would much prefer to stay here."

"I'm getting the feeling you haven't gotten over this affair at all."

"Ha! Even you call it an affair! You-"

"Well, I wasn't quite using in that context, but fine."

"- admit that you're cheating. If-"

"It's not like we're _doing_ anything. You're perfectly welcome to chaperone us if you genuinely don't trust me, but I don't understand why you don't."

"- this even qualifies as cheating. Maybe I was just deluding myself about our being together. Maybe you've been lying this whole time to get revenge for what I did way back when. Maybe-"

"Oh, Ed, stop," Oswald felt like crying, himself. He swallowed hard, "Please stop. You _know_ I have always been genuine with you. You have to know that."

"Why? Why am I so different?"

"Ed, you're special to me. Precious. I love you. I love you like I've never loved anyone else in this world. From the first time we killed together, we've had an unbreakable bond. If we didn't, we would never have ended up sitting here, after everything. And yes, sometimes I have to do unpleasant things for business. That is the nature of business. But I would kill for you. I would take a beating for you. I would go to Arkham to keep you out. It doesn't matter if you feel the same - if you have ever felt the same. I would and I will always hold you above all others. I always assumed you knew, you being a genius and all."

There was a brief pause as Ed absorbed this little speech. His posture relaxed slightly and Oswald sighed in relief. When Ed spoke again, his voice was calm and steady.

"So you have been lying."

"What?"

"I must say, those were some very convincing words, but they were still clearly lies."

"Eddie, please-"

"If you really cared oh so much about me, if you really did place me above all others-"

"I swear on my mother's soul I do."

"-then why are you so eager to get hitched to that woman when you've never once even _discussed_ marriage with me?" Ed sniffed at the end of the question, the only sound filling the stunned silence that followed.

"You... you want to get married?" Oswald asked blankly. Somehow, Ed had never seemed the type.

"Oswald, do you have any idea how loud my insecurites can get? How many times one of my _other_ voices has spent entire nights whispering that you're after revenge, or that you're just playing with me, or that you're not even real? I can hear them this very second, wondering when you plan on shooting me, debating whether you think that would be too quick and painless after what I did-"

"Ed, that was years ago-"

"So? I've never forgiven my father, and I haven't seen him since I was sixteen. There are so, _so_ many reasons why I would understand if this was all a ruse, or if you left for someone better. If you actually meant what you said, you'd give me that reassurance that it was the truth, but you haven't even suggested it. And now you're ready to marry someone you've met, what, four times? Five? It sends a pretty clear message.

I'm relieved, actually. Now I don't have to stay awake wondering anymore. Knowledge and happiness are inverse, after all, but knowledge is the superior of the two. It's disappointing, sure, but I was kind of expecting it, so I'll get over it eventually, and -"

Oswald finally managed to shake off his shock and pulled Ed towards him, shutting up Gotham's idiot genius with a kiss. Ed froze beneath him and Oswald let him go, keeping one arm around his shoulders.

"Are you quite finished?"

"I- uh-"

"Good. I'll have you remember that you never broached the subject of marriage, either. I figured you weren't interested, or maybe you were concerned that people would start targeting you to use agaisnt me again. But if you aren't opposed..."

Oswald carefully shifted himself off the curb to kneel in the street. He selected one of the many rings he wore (a purple and silver one he was partial to. He wanted to use the ring his mother had given him, but Ed was still a relatively active criminal and it was a risk he wouldn't take) and held it out to Ed. The man was staring at him like one of them had gone crazy (again) and he wasn't sure which one it was.

"Edward Nygma, master of riddles, decider of your own destiny, it would be an honor and a pleasure for you to be at my side for all eternity. Considering our line of work, I doubt either of us will get that, but I will take anything you're willing to offer. What's mine is already yours, but if you want a distinct gesture or physical token of my love and affection, then I am only too happy to oblige. Will you be my husband?"

Ed inhaled sharply, "Is this real? Or is this a fabrication of the gas?"

Before Oswald could come up with a suitable reply, he continued, "No, it must be real. The gas seems to have mostly worn off, and besides, Crane's gas would never create something this..."

He broke off and stood, examining the ring Oswald was still holding out to him.

"What are you thinking about?"

Oswald blinked, "I'm thinking that I much prefer problems that are solved by something simple, like killing people. Trying to unravel your emotions enough to prove my love for you is exhausting, not that I'd ever stop."

Ed nodded, thoughtful. Finally he held the ring up to the light of the gibbous moon and directed his words at it, although Oswald knew they were meant for him.

"To many I go up and down, to a few I go side to side. I differ greatly from place to place although my nemesis often remains the same. I can bring both joy and sorrow, although I am by definition positive. What am I?"

Oswald shrugged.

"Yes."

 

  
~ ~ ~

 

  
_Epilogue_

The next morning, Oswald awoke to the other side of his bed having been slept in, Ed and his pancakes brightening the kitchen, and the best phone message he'd ever received.

"My daughter got your invitation to the Iceberg last night, Mr. Cobblepot. One of the employees informed her that you had left on urgent business, but she decided to stay and enjoy herself. I'm terribly sorry, but it seems while she was there, she developed an affection for your manager. I'm not sure I entirely approve, but he seems wealthy and kind enough, so if you are not too destroyed, I would be willing to amend our original deal. She has her heart set on this young man, so if they would marry instead, I would settle for your raising his salary and guaranteeing his position."

Ed smirked over the top of his mug as he watched Oswald's jaw drop.

" _You_! You did this! How?"

"I merely used my resources. By the way, I think we ought to give Jonathon a seat at the VIP table, don't you agree?" 

**Author's Note:**

> Didn't you guys love how complex my OCs were?  
> Comments are always appreciated.


End file.
